


Sherlock Season 4 Real

by Queen_of_the_Rhine



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 02:42:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Rhine/pseuds/Queen_of_the_Rhine
Summary: Sherlock is back from the plane and on the case! He begins to try and solve the mystery of Moriarty's apparent reappearance. In the meantime it's up to John and Sherlock to solve the case of the six thatchers.





	Sherlock Season 4 Real

“As ever, Watson, you see, but you don’t observe.To you the world remains an impenetrable mystery, whereas to me it is an open book. Hard logic versus romantic whimsy,” Sherlock sighed “that is your choice. You fail to connect actions with their consequences. Now for the last time if you want to keep the rattle, do not throw the rattle.”

Sherlock handed the rattle to the small baby. Rosie gently reached out to take the rattle and for almost a second Sherlock thought that he’d finally gotten through to the small human child. Although he would never admit it, in this moment little Rosie looked very cute. Almost as quickly as the moment began, it was completely ruined by the rattle being thrown right at Sherlock’s head. 

Sherlock blinked with annoyance while Rosie giggled. He glanced over to her parents, who were lying asleep on his couch. Ever since Sherlock had gotten off the plane all of their lives had been extremely busy. Moriarty had made a reappearance. Of course he was dead. for anyone to think differently would be completely ridiculous. Obviously someone else was behind it; however, it was enough to get Sherlock off the hook for what happened with Magnussen. Mycroft had the footage of the event to make it look as though Sherlock was innocent. Only a handful of people knew the truth that Sherlock had shot Magnussen in cold blood. For Mary. Well, more so for John. 

Sherlock had also picked up a multitude of smaller cases to pass the time while still working on the case of Moriarty, or rather whoever was behind all of it. Mary and John had helped with some of the cases, which was nice. It was almost like old times, well the the additive of Mary. Everything was almost back to normal. And then Mary had Rosamond. 

Ever since then the two of them had been busy with the baby and all the unnecessary celebrations that come with it, which Sherlock didn’t see the point of. Furthermore, it meant that John was to busy to work on cases with him and even then Mary would come and bring the baby. 

Rosey started to cry and as much Sherlock didn’t want to repeat what happened the last time he gave her the rattle, he didn’t want to wake up John and Mary with the crying. He picked up the rattle off of the floor and placed it in front of the child, then glanced back up at the man sleeping on his couch. John looked quite peaceful lying there on the couch and there was a soft pang in Sherlock’s chest. Suddenly something flashed in the side of Sherlock’s vision. He looked down to see once again that the rattle was on the floor. He looked back up at the small child sitting in John’s chair. She giggled again as if she was proud of herself for being able to throw the rattle for the 6th time in a row. 

“Alright, fine” Sherlock sighed handing her the rattle once and then he then took out his phone and continued to work.  

 

* * *

“221 Baker Street” John jolted awake feeling the cab come to a stop. For a few moments he had been asleep and when he woke up, he panicked for a few seconds not remembering that he had taken the cab to get to Sherlock’s flat. Sherlock had texted him yesterday saying that there was a new case from Lestrade. John was exhausted and almost declined as he knew Sherlock was completely capable of solving these cases all on his own; however, he also missed solving cases with Sherlock even if the consulting detective could be a pain in the arse. 

“Here you go.” John said paying the cab driver. She took the money and glanced back at John, looking like she was hiding a secret. He wasn’t sure what she seemed to be so amused by when he got in the cab. John got out of the car and caught his reflection in the mirror. Behind his ear was a white flower. Rosie’s flower, which he had put behind his ear when changing her this morning. The cab sped off down the street, leaving John to look like a fool on the side of the road. John sighed and took the flower out from behind his ear before heading up to Sherlock’s flat. 

John knocked on the door to 221B, his old home. No one answered, which shouldn’t have surprised John in the least bit considering that Sherlock hardly ever opened the door. Knocking at this point was almost just for courtesy purposes. John took out a spare key for the flat and unlocked the door. Even though John hadn’t lived in the flat for almost a year, he still had his key. Sherlock had insisted that he keep it “just in case.” John opened the door and saw Sherlock sitting in his chair texting or tweeting or whatever he had been doing for the past few months. For some reason Sherlock had been glued to his phone. No one, not even John, who Sherlock shared most of his case work with, knew what Sherlock was doing. Somehow it was connected to the Moriarty case. 

“I see you’re still working.” John said. Sherlock didn’t look up. He simply nodded and hummed an agreeable “mmm-hmm.”

John sighed and looked around the flat. Not much had changed since John had left. There was a cup of tea on the table next to John’s chair. He walked over to his chair and picked up the tea. Irish breakfast, John’s favourite. Probably was Mrs. Hudson who made it. Sherlock also had a cup of tea sitting beside him. 

“So,” John took a sip of tea “what’s the case then?” 

“Not sure,” Sherlock murmured still continuing to stare intensely at his phone “he just said it was an interesting one.” 

John nodded and waited a few beats before asking “why are you constantly on your phone?”

Sherlock looked up briefly, piercing blue-grey eyes fixing on John for the first time since he had walked in the room. He might have been about to answer John’s question when they heard a knock on the door. 

“That’s probably Lestrade.” John said looking at the door, but Sherlock didn’t move.  John sighed and got up to answer the door. “I’ll get it.”

“Afternoon,” John said opening the door “he says you’ve got a good one, Greg.” 

Lestrade nodded “oh, yeah.”

John let Lestrade into the flat and directed him to the chair that clients would normally sit in. John sat back down in his chair. Sherlock said nothing and stayed deep in thought, resting his hands together beneath his chin. 

“So,”  John said “what’s the case?”

Lestrade began his tale “It was David Welsborough’s 50th birthday, when David and his wife received a Skype call from their son, Charlie. Their son was traveling and had called to wish his father a happy birthday. The signal was awful because Charlie was in the mountains of Tibet. Charlie asked his father to take a picture of the power ranger on his car and send it in. He had sounded very strange on the phone, according to David. A week later... something really weird happens.”

Sherlock grinned and Lestrade continued. “Drunk driver, totally smashed, cops are chasing ‘em and he turns into the drive of the Welsborough house to try and get away. Unfortunately, he runs into Charlie’s car and Charlie’s car explodes. The drunk guy survived. They manage to pull him out, but when they put the fire out and examined the parked car they found a body, well a skelton.” 

“Whose body?” John asked leaning forward in his chair.   

“Charlie Welsborough, the son.” Lestrade answered 

John blinked in shock “what?”

“The son who was in tibet” Lestrade stated “DNA all checks out. Night of the Party the car is empty. Then a week later a dead boy is found at the wheel.”

Sherlock laughed still had his eyes closed as if he could see everything that had taken place first hand. Lestrade sighed “yeah, I thought it’d tickle you.” 

“You got a lab report?” John asked

“Yeah,” Lestrade answered “Charlie Welsborough’s the son of a cabinet member, so I’m under a lot of pressure to get results.” 

“Who cares about that,” Sherlock’s eyes popped open “tell me about the seats.”

The two others were confused for a few moments, and neither were sure how it had anything to do with the rest of the case. Lestrade was flipping through some papers. It was a few beats of silence before John asked “The seats?”

“Yes, the car seats.” Sherlock leaned forward and took a piece of paper from Lestrade. He quickly looked over the piece of paper. “Made of vinyl... two different types of vinyl present. Was it his own car?”

“Yeah, not flash. He was a student.” Lestrade answered. John continued to look over the lab report as Sherlock sat back in his chair then said “well, that’s suggestive.”

“Why? Asked Lestrade

“Vinyl’s cheaper than leather.” Sherlock shot back

“Yeah, right” Lestrade quietly agreed

John interjected “There’s something else”

“Yes?” Sherlock turned his attention to John

“According to this,” John stated reading over the lab report to make sure he was accurate in his conclusion “Charlie had already been dead for a week.”

“What?” Sherlock breathed as an excited grin crossed his face 

John looked up from the report “The body in the car, dead for a week.” 

“Oh this is a good one!” Sherlock exclaimed “is it my birthday? You want help?”

“Yes, please.” Lestrade said with desperation

“One condition,” Sherlock fired back and Lestrade sighed “take all the credit.”

The last statement had both men shocked. It wasn’t very often Sherlock did nice things for other people that would benefit someone other than himself. Plus, Sherlock always liked being the centre of attention. 

“It gets boring if I just solve them all.” was Sherlock’s excuse, but Lestrade wasn’t having it. 

“Yeah, you say that and then John blogs about it and you get all the credit anyways, which makes me look like some kind of prima donna who insists on credit for something he didn’t do.”

“He’s got a point.”  John shrugged “I think you’ve hit a sore spot, Sherlock.”

“Like I’m some credit junkie” Lestrade added “so you take all the glory. Thank you all the same... Just solve the bloody thing, it’s driving me nuts.”

“Okay,” Sherlock said holding his hands up as if to shield himself from Lestrade’s bitterness “anything you say, Giles.” 

Both Lestrade and John glared at Sherlock, who smiled lightly “Just kidding”

Sherlock looked over to John and mouthed “what is it?”

“Greg” John mouthed back, but sherlock didn’t catch it. John mouthed “Greg” again this time it wasn’t clear whether Sherlock got the message. The consultant cleared his throat. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it, what happened?” John asked to change the subject. 

“John you amaze me,” Sherlock said astounded “you know what happened?”

“Not a clue,” John answered “it’s just you normally say that at this point.” 

“hmm-mmm” Sherlock smiled at John for a few moments before rising to head out to the scene of the crime “Well, then, let’s go help you solve your little problem, Greg.”

Lestrade smiled and turned John “You hear that?”

“I know,” John replied

“So, how is fatherhood going for you?” Lestrade changed the subject to something slightly lighter than crime.

“Oh good, great, yeah amazing” John said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Sure it wasn’t easy, but for Rosie it was worth it. 

“Getting any sleep?” 

“Christ, no.”

“You beck and call of a screaming, demanding baby,” Lestrade said “woken up all hours to obey his every whim... must feel very different.”

John snickered to himself picking up on the joke that Lestrade was making. Sherlock, on the other hand, was completely confused. He paused mid buttoning of his suit jacket and looked back and forth between the two gentlemen trying to figure out what they were talking about “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well yes, you know how it is,” John said as he started to follow Lestrade down the stairs of the apartment “all you do is clean up their mess, pat them on the head and  _ Never _ a word of ‘thanks’, can’t even tell people’s faces apart!” 

“This is a Joke isn’t it?” Sherlock continued to follow the men down the stairs, but not their conversation. 

Lestrade and John had reached the doors while Sherlock hung back. He had finally caught on to some of the Joke. “Is it about me?”

Sherlock shook his head giving up. He understood somethings about what they were saying, but what made it funny he couldn’t figure out. Sherlock decided that rather than focus of John and Lestrade's jokes, to instead focus on the case at hand.  


End file.
